The 25th Annual Hunger Games
by EffieTrinketAbernathy
Summary: The First Quarter Quell has come, and everything about the Games as Panem has thus far known, is changing. This time instead of the normal" one boy and one girl from each district", tributes will be reaped as pairs and must be siblings. Any combination of brother/sister will suffice. Let the Games begin! ((OOC please leave a comment with your HONEST opinion of the piece!))
1. Chapter 1

One: Reaping Day

It's the day we all celebrate, the day some colorful woman goes to announce which two unfortunates from each of the twelve districts will be entering the Hunger Games this year. But it's different this time; they've upped the stakes by announcing a change in the way the game will be played. Instead of the normal "one boy and one girl between the ages of eighteen" the Capitol has decided to reap siblings.

This will make the reaping days significantly shorter, of course, considering the fact that they'll have to call two names from one piece of paper. I'm lucky to be sitting where I am now; safe in the Capitol. I'll watch the reaping's along with everyone else tonight and gossip about my favorites, who I think will win, all that. This isn't what I want to be doing, but what can one person from the Capitol do to stop this madness?

I was born here, of course, but my parents were born before the rebellion District four now lays. When the rebellion began, my parents quickly left their home behind for the Capitol, for safety and security. My sister was born seven years later and I was born a year after her. It's where I've lived all of my life, but it's never felt completely like home. For the most part, I fit in. I wear the right clothes, the right make-up, and the right wigs. I have ornate tattoo's covering the left side of my body in gold, and a shimmering bronze tone inlaid in my skin. I'm not opposed to the strange fashion here, it's what I've always seen and worn, but the attitudes of the people here can disgust me. This particular Hunger Games- the first Quarter Quell- has shown me that.

They are all so excited to see brothers and sisters attack one another on their plasma screens. I simply can't find it in myself to approve of it. I have a sister myself after all, she's only one year older than me; I can't imagine being forced into an arena where I might have to kill her. Marina is a vapid, beastly Capitolian, but she _is_ my sister.

Marina is who I will watch the Reaping's with tonight. We'll have a party- as we always do- and celebrate this year's tributes. This year our friend Cassius (A hair dresser for District Five's tributes) will be hosting. Cassius is even more vapid than Marina and is almost never satisfied with his tributes. Marina and I also work with the tributes every year. Marina designs for District Three. She says it gets old since there's only so much you can do with old wiring. I work on the prep team for District Seven. Most years I try not to pay much attention to the tributes I work with since they're more likely to die than survive. Last year our girl lasted until the final eight, but the District two girl found her asleep and slit her throat. She ended up winning.

Tonight is no different. I'll simply watch the reaping's as I always have, trying to ignore the hole in my heart that's been growing since I started this job. Knowing the tributes is much different than simply watching them on TV.

"Nerissa!" Marina calls to me from the sofa. "Caesar's on!"

I set myself beside her and watch the familiar face of Caesar Flickerman light up on the screen. His eyebrows are dyed a ghastly yellow and his hair is white as snow, his suit sparkles like starlight and every single one of his teeth is perfectly shaped to fit together in his signature smile.

"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Capitol, we are back for another Hunger Games!" The room fills with cheers as does the stadium where Flickerman stands. "This year there's been a little change though, I'm sure you all know it- This year is our first Quarter Quell. Exciting isn't it? This year marks _twenty five_ years of the Hunger Games, can you believe that? Twenty Five! I for one couldn't be more excited, because the President has announced that instead of the same old boy and girl tributes that we always have, this year our tributes will be _siblings_ from the districts. Yes, siblings. Well, without further ado I give you the reaping's of the 25th annual Hunger Games!"

District one is always boring to watch. There are five sets of siblings ready to volunteer for the games. In the end two sisters- twins actually- are chosen, by the names of Glory and Sapphire. District two is the same. A brother and sister volunteer immediately, Nathaniel and Bethany. District three is just as un- entertaining, but Marina is on her tip toes dancing with anticipation as another brother and sister are reaped, Marcel and Genevra.

"Oh she's so pretty!" Marina squeals clapping her hands.

"So lucky, I bet mine are complete boars." Cassius sneers.

District Four's tributes are two brothers who volunteered for a younger pair of siblings who were reaped initially, Arrow and Mace. District five comes and Cassius groans before the pair is even reaped. A young pair of sisters is chosen Ursula and Sybill.

"Oh wonderful, two babies- why should I even bother!" Cassius says rolling his eyes and flicking a piece of perfectly straight black hair over his shoulder.

District six is another pair of brothers, spindly, read headed kids named Boris and Milo. Then comes District seven. My heart picks up speed as the event coordinator-Desdemona Parsnip- delicately fishes out this year's tributes. She opens the paper and clears her throat, smiling as she announces "Lennox and Horatio Thisbe!" Two figures weave their way through the crowd. A tall boy with chestnut hair, the same as the bark of the trees that surround the small town and his young sister- with hair like gold- possibly the youngest they've called yet.

I watch, trying not to feel the tightening my chest feels when I see the little girl next to him. Desdemona smiles and asks which is which. The girl says she's Lennox in the smallest voice I've ever heard, tears rushing down her face. The boy says his name- Horatio- through tight lips, his eyes void of emotion and Desdemona leads them into the Mayor's house.

Cassius smirks behind me "Looks like I'm not the worst off." I can't bring myself to look back at him, because I know if I do my face will betray that I already care too much about my tributes.

District eights tributes are two brutal looking brothers Gnash and Rip. District nine's tributes are another pair of twins, brother and sister Skye and Faith. The kids from district ten are a brother and sister who look worse off than Cassisus' tributes named Nym and Soth. District eleven pulls two tall, Amazonian looking sisters named Vee and Pia. District twelve's tributes are a small boy and his waifish sister, Rorick and Sade.

The Reaping's conclude then with Caesar's final comments, but I don't hear any of them. All I can think about is the fact that I'm going to meet that beautiful, small girl named Lenox tomorrow- and I'm probably going to have to watch her die.


	2. Chapter 2

Two: The Meeting

Today is like it always is, we wait patiently until the train comes in and then we make the poor tributes over. We rid them of their impurities, cut their hair, and wax their eyebrows; we file their nails and tan their skin- if they'll let us we even give them some sort of Capitol touch like a tattoo or an earring. District Seven tributes almost never allow us to do that. It makes our designers, Demetrius and Helena Fishborne; very upset since they'd rather we accent their "simple yet elegant" designs with skin decorations.

I wait on the platform for the train to arrive. Desdemona Parsnip and District Seven's mentor, Benedict Thorne, will exit the train first, followed by Demetrius and Helena and lastly our tributes. I feel anxious this morning more than I ever have before. Last year our tributes were both sixteen- most of the tributes end up being about that age. It's easier to watch a sixteen year old go in than a twelve year old. I fidget uneasily thinking about how I'm possibly going to keep my feelings of sorrow hidden when Lennox steps off that train. I've never worked with a tribute younger than fourteen, and he wasn't even the tribute I worked with daily.

The train pulls into the station with a vibrating whoosh, and the wind blows my bright red curls in front of my face. My team erects themselves and we watch as Desdemona exits the train. She smiles at us, her pink skin glinting in the sunlight. Then comes Benedict- a lanky fellow who's beginning to bald and doesn't speak very often- Demetrius and Helena follow, walking arm in arm, smiling at us and shaking our hands, making small talk as we watch the exit expectantly.

Lennox comes first, her golden hair knotted behind her neck, her hand firmly in her brothers, tear stains lining her cheeks. Horatio stares forward with that same emotionless glare. Demetrius pulls them apart and shoves Lennox toward Helena and her team and leads Horatio toward us. Something inside me shrinks a little. I'd wanted so badly to comfort Lennox; I know none of Helena's team will so much as try to be kind to her. They'll simply gossip while she worries about whether or not she'll be dead in a week.

Demetrius clears his throat then, "Team, this is our tribute this year, Mr. Horatio Thisbe. Horatio this is your prep team; Reynaldo, Frain, Cimorene and Nerissa. They'll be helping prepare you for my exquisite designs! They'll take you back now to get started, yes? Yes! Very good! Chop, chop now!"

Reynaldo sets a long hand on Horatio's shoulder and leads him into the building to the room where we will begin his preparation for the tribute parade. The parade isn't until tomorrow, but they'll have to look their best, and we can't accomplish that without enough time. It's dull work since I've done it so many times before. First we strip him down- one becomes numb to the strangeness of a naked body in this job- then we let him soak in special elixir's and oils for about an hour. We then move on to hair and skin salvation. That will be all for tonight, but it takes a good three to four hours depending on the tribute.

So when we finish within two and a half hours the whole team is more than thrilled. Demetrius does a thorough inspection and the smiles clasping the boy on the back. Well, I suppose he isn't really a boy; he's my age, eighteen, almost old enough to escape the reapings- almost. Demetrius walks with him to dinner in their eighth floor apartment.

The view isn't very good from our floor; all you can see is the building beside us and the alleyway between the buildings. Venia- one of the newest members of District Twelve's prep team- gushes about the view from the twelfth floor. I guess I'll never know.

The team is technically allowed to eat dinner with the tributes, the designers, the mentor and the event coordinator, but there's an unspoken rule that we ought not to. So the prep teams wait hungrily until the tributes are finished and headed off to bed, to eat. However, Desdemona's clicking shoes hit our ears just as we're sitting in our rooms to wait.

"Our little Lennox thinks you all should eat with us tonight." She says smiling. There's a strain of discomfort and frustration emanating from her, but we follow anyways.

I've never seen the table so full of food, we get there so late it's usually half gone (not that half gone isn't enough food). All of us take our seats slowly as the Avox's set our cutlery on the napkins before us.

"Well doesn't this just look ducky? Ha, get it? Ducky!" Desdemona laughs lightly as she spears the duck in the middle of the table.

Demetrius and Helena laugh with her and the rest of us follow dutifully. Not Horatio though. He sits beside his sister with the same awful glare that he's been wearing this entire time. Even quiet, introverted Benedict and his frightened little sister have cracked smiles at Desdemona's dreadfully Capitol joke.

The rest of the meal passes the way most meals in the Capitol do; gossiping. They gossip about fashion trends, and hairstyles, and mentor changes and new designers and tributes both from this year and previous years. They also try to talk to Lennox and Horatio. Lennox gives a few answers and smiles when they ask about her hobbies and what it's like in district seven.

"Ro works with daddy cutting wood." Lennox says as she shoves a pile of roasted potatoes into her mouth.

"Ro?" I ask. It's the first thing I've said all night.

Her eyes fall on me steadily, as if she hadn't noticed me until that very moment- which is quite possible. "It's what my family calls Horatio."

"Here, it's Horatio." Her brother snaps. It's the first time any of us have heard him speak and a stunned silence falls over the table.

"Fine." I reply finally. "Do they call _you_ something else at home, Lennox?" I turn my attention back to the girl.

"Ro calls me Lenny." She says almost as if she were telling me a secret. "Do you have a nickname?" She asks suddenly.

I frown at the question since everyone in the Capitol goes by their full name. I don't think anyone's ever thought to shorten them. "Oh, uh, no- just Nerissa."

Her eyes sparkle "That's so pretty, I wouldn't want to shorten that."

I feel my cheeks flush with heat and am suddenly glad to have had the pigment change so they can't see me blush.

Suddenly Horatio stands from the table and tugs his sister up with him. "We're done. We're going to our rooms; don't come until you need us in the morning." He says forcefully. He drags Lennox down the hall and slams his door after they've entered.

"Well," Benedict says sighing. "I thought we had a winner this year, but it looks like we've just got another hot-headed woods man."


	3. Chapter 3

Three: Opening Ceremony

Morning comes and Demetrius briefs us on his vision for Horatio's parade outfit.

"Luckily he's a strapping young man so we can leave him shirtless; we'll add a leaf crown and leaf designs on his face and chest melting into the" trunk", which will be my patented micro-fabric brown pants and matching boots. Helena has conjured up something equally divine for the girl so you need not worry about the extravagance of your make-up and hai designs. Make sure to pluck his eyebrows to perfection and spray his hair-" He lets out a disappointed groan "He doesn't want any permanent alterations ."

Cimorene jots everything down on a small electronic note pad as he speaks and Frain begins to draw representations that we will choose from once Horatio is brought to the tower. Each Tribute has their own tower where their teams can work on them in peace, then their designers will dress them there and brief them on how to wear each garment correctly. One might think that it's simple enough to wear an outfit, but these designers have a very specific vision for each of their creations.

That's what Marina always tells me. She's never happy about trying to come up with something new for her district, but once she gets it she's thrilled. The intrerview clothes are her favorites to design though. She says there's more freedom since she doesn't have to go along with district pride and can actaully create something for the person not an industry. I don't know if Demetrius and Helena feel the same considering they've been doing this much longer than Marina. I remember watching them come out during the tenth Hunger Games as one of the new "distirct specialty" designers. Before the ten year anniversary there was a team of six designers who designed for every district before the tributes were even reaped.

When Horatio arrives we start on him immediately. It only takes an hour before we send him off to Demetrius to get ready. Fianlly we are told to come to the parade grounds for final touch ups. Lennox and Horatio are quite a sight. Compared to the other tributes they stand out, but only becuse of how naturally stunning they are to start. Lennox's beautiful golden hair is woven with flowers, twigs and leaves, strands of it braided and others flying around her head in dizzy curls. Her dress is fitted to her pre-pubescent body and makes her look like a sappling in springtime. Her brother is stark in cotrast; I remember sweeping his dak hair up in the air and spraying the sparkling green into it, and Cimorene and Reynaldo painting his skin wth leafy greens, but I hadn't imagined it so stunning when finished. I have to admitt this might be Demetrius' finest work yet. The two of them look like perfect wood nymphs straight from some magical forest no one has ever personally seen.

Demetrius circles Horatio with a scrutinizing glare. "Trim the top please, Cim, and Frain would you blend the sides a little more...Reynaldo I need some red in the lip and Nessie-" He looks up at me with a far away gaze, "Get me something...mossy, and tie it 'round his midesection, would you?"

I nod and run back to the building, up to our work room in search of something " mossy". Demetrius and Helena's collection of strange fabrics is quite extensive so it doesn't take me very long to find what's been requested. I kneel on the ground and begin fastening the fabric along the waist of his pants. Normally I'm blissfully unaware of how intrusive I might seem to the tribute I'm working on, but somehow this time it's different. I'm incredibly aware of how close I am to his nether reigions, and how fidgety he's bceome since I began. I take a deep breath once I'm finished standing so quickly that when I'm up I begin to see stars and feel myself stumble forward.

Horatio sets a hand on my shoulder to settle me. "Up too quick." He mumbles. I nod keeping my eyes averted and glad once again for the Capitol's silly pigmentation fad, since otherwise my face would be red as a cherry.

"Oh fabulous!" Demetrius beams as he circles Horatio once again. "Good lord team, I think we've done it!"

I must say Demetrius is good at remembering his team, noting that it wasn't all him. I used to work on District Two's team and their designer - Eudora Pheobus- was positively awful, and took credit for all of her teams work.

Benedict and Desdemona move forward then. Benedict speaks with them about how to act during these opening ceremonies, how to stand, smile and to watch the President as if he were a god. "He may be new, and he may be young, but President Snow _is_ still the president. You have to prove to the entirety of the Capitol that you respect him. The people in district seven don't matter anymore. But those feathered, dyed and pierced people out there? They do. They're your life source for this competetition, so treat them like you would your father or mother back at home- whoever took care of you. And, try not to seem too uptight." He says the last sentence looking directly at Horatio.

Benedict kneels down to speak to Lennox personally then. I can't hear him from where I'm standing, which doesn't surprise me since he's naturally soft spoken. I think he might have wanted to address Horatio alone too, but the anthem starts before he can. Desdemona claps her hands and smiles. "Chins up children! It's your official Capitol debut!"

District one's chariot rolls out, followed by two and three and so on until it's seven's turn. I watch as the chariot rolls out and the crowd roars for Demetrius and Helena's design's. We can hear Ceasar' s commentary coming from the small screen Desdemona is holding. He's pleased with the complete look of our tributes and the endearing smile on the little girls face. Another voice chimes in then, that of Claudius Templesmith, commenting on the boys charm and swarthyness.

"I wonder if he can kill more than just the ladies," Caesar remarks laughing. I look up and away from the chriots to the screens above the audience and see Horatio's face twisted into a dashing smile, his eyes twinkling at the crowd.

Benedict chuckles beside me.

"You think he knows what he's doing?" I ask.

"I doubt it, but it seems to be working. Maybe he'll win them over- maybe he'll piss them off, you never know with this crowd."

The rest of the opening ceremonies go by quickly and soon enough we're headed back up to the eighth floor.

"Oh that was simply wonderful! I think they really liked you two." Desdemona says almsot dancing with excitement.

They certainly are different from the pair we had last year, but Benedict's comment about never knowing how the Capitol will respond is bumping around in my head. But this isn't the first time I've been worried for my tributes.


	4. Chapter 4

Four: Training Day One

The week of training is easy for us team members. We don't have much to do other than prep the tributes for a day of sweating. Each tribute is given a training outfit from the trainer- this year it's changed, again, to a man named Faux Maus- with their district on the sleeve.

Breakfast is silent this morning as Desdemona has decided to sleep in, Demetrius and Helena have been summoned to some sort of designer meeting and no one else ever talks much. I'm beginning to wonder how much advice about the games Benedict has even given these kids. Right now, it seems like they might be clueless save the small lesson they learned last night and what they've watched in previous games. Neither of them eats much, but I've seen this before; they're either being purposely defiant or too nervous to eat anything before facing their competition for the first time.

Frain, Cimorene and Reynaldo sit at the end of the table with Helena's team. I know they're probably whispering about me. We haven't really gotten along for a while now. My contempt for the games isn't just random after all, and it almost made a Capitol wide appearance. If it hadn't been for a friend of mine, Haydrien, I would have ruined myself completely. The incident still haunts me, not simply because my team knows all about it and are constantly judging me, but because I can still see the moment everything changed play out in my head...

I'm startled out of my thoughts by an Avox entering the room to take away the trash on the table. My heart speeds up and slows down so quickly I can't concentrate. My mind flashes between this Avox, a small wide eyed girl, an another Avox, a tall, white haired boy with silver tattooed eyebrows , eyelashes and lips.

"Everything alright, Nessie?" Cimorene says in a semi-mocking tone as the others snicker.

I clear my throat and give my emptied plate to the girl and stand to leave the table. I want to see Lennox and Horatio off to training, but I don't think it's such a good idea to keep singling myself out; I'm already terrible at pretending to love the games.

I go up to the tower and work on make-up and design portfolio's for the interviews. It's not my job, and none of my designs will get picked since Frain is the Senior make-up team member and Demetrius is our actual designers, but I like to play around anyway. I think Lennox should stick with the innocent, nymphish look. She's so young and beautiful, almost like a princess, so much softer looking than anyone in the Capitol. I wish I had her hair; her long, luxurious hair. Mine's so course from being dyed when I was younger, that's why I opt for wigs now-a-days.

Then there's Horatio. He looks like most of the older male tributes that come from district seven: strong jaw line, tanned skin, dark hair, dark eyes, large arms, raw hands- basically the epitome of old fashioned masculinity. I wish there was a way to make him look different though. I don't want him in some dowdy suit, he should wear something...better. I wish he'd let us give him a few tattoo's and a bronze inlay, it would add so much flare to his look without really trying. As I'm drawing up my vision of Horatio's interview outfit I'm reminded of a conversation I had once with Haydrien:

"You know I think they should take more risks." He said.

"More risks? You don't think an outfit made completely of wood is risky?" I always admired his taste for the absurd, but sometimes he could get a little ahead of himself.

Haydrien Penderghast had been my friend since I'd started at the Capitol Academy for Artistry and Design a aget fourteen. After we graduated (a year later) we were both assigned to District two and then moved to district seven together. He worked on Helena's team before...I swallow hard and re-focus my attention on my drawing (which has become very sloppy in the past five minutes or so).

I watch the stylus glide across my design pad and create a thick line down the center of an elaborate jacket with tails, and label it "velvet".

"How very pre-Panem of you." I'm surprised to hear Demetrius' voice behind me. I turn with a start and stand automatically.

"Demetrius! I-I didn't know you were back-"

He laughs lightly and takes the design pad from my hands; with a bit of effort, since I'm holding it so tightly.

"Interesting. Delicate, yet masculine- strong lines, strange fabric choices, intricate seam work and still simple. " He hands the pad back to me "I love it."

I blink and frown. "You...do?"

"Yes- it reminds me of some of the older work I used to do before the games."

I never thought of Demetrius as anything_but_ a designer for the games- in fact, I'd never thought of him working at all before I first saw him on television all those years ago.

"I think I'll send it to my production team- what color were you thinking?"

More than slightly taken aback I stammer: "Green- er, forest green."

"Yes...yes, so...regal. Thank you Nerissa." He smiles lightly and leaves after taking the pad from me again.

I'm alone in the television room when the door slams and someone comes storming in. It doesn't take a genius to guess that it's Horatio back from training, despite the fact that the session ends in an hour. I stand to leave the room and give him space (as is customary) before he can see me, but it's too late, he's already here.

"Oh don't leave on account of me! Don't give up your luxury for me!" He shouts. He storms past me and picks up one of the light gray chairs slamming it to the ground.

I step back startled. "What!?" He growls watching me with fierce eyes.

"Nothing." I reply in a surprisingly even tone.

"Nothing my ass!" He grumbles stomping toward me. "What is it Mannequin, hmmm? Is it my hair? My eyebrows? Are my hands too dirty for you?!" His voice grows louder and louder.

"I never said any of those things..." I say backing up slowly.

"You don't have to say it to think it, do you?" his voice has become eerily low.

There's a silence in which I can hear my heart beating in time with his breaths- quick and low. I don't know what happened in training to make him so angry, but this sort of thing won't help him in the games.

"You're going to lose." I say after a moment.

His eyes flicker with rage "Oh yeah? What do you know about winning the games, Mannequin?"

"Not much," I reply "But I know a lot about losing them; I've watched many a tribute _lose_ the games. Let me just say, most lose because they're too cocky or too hot-headed." I give him a pointed look.

He snickers and leans away from me. "I've watched them too, ya know."

"I'm sure you never guessed you'd be in them though, did you?" Another silence falls then and he glares at me.

"I don't want to win anyhow." He says finally.

"I know."

"You know?" He sneers. "How could you possibly know?"

"Because of Lennox." I say.

His face flickers between several different emotions so quickly I can't make out any of them in particular. He steps toward me again and this time I don't move back.

"What do you want, Mannequin? Are you some sort of spy for Snow?"

I don't reply. I simply let him look me over and narrow his eyes at me until he moves toward me again, forcing me to step back or be run into. "You'll make sure she dies won't you? That's what you've got planned, isn't it? You'll make sure she doesn't get sponsors so she dies- it'll be the biggest upset of the Quell, won't it? The most entertaining bit of the entire slaughter will be all thanks to you! Woop dee doo! Mannequin, makes it big in the illustrious Capitol where the people can do no wrong! Isn't that right, make-up girl?! Well isn't it!" His voice has raised from almost a whisper to a shout so loud it echoes through the room .

"I would gladly switch places with your sister any day you no-nothing, wood-for-brains pig!" I reply evenly, though with equal gusto, stepping toward him and shoving my way past.

I haven't really processed the sentence until I get past him, and now as I stomp up the stairs to my room in the tower, I know I've made a huge mistake. And this time, there's no covering it up.


	5. Chapter 5

Five: Training (part two)

Usually around this time before the games, we're all preparing ourselves for the interview. It may not be the first time that the Capitol see's the tributes, but it's a very crucial moment in the process. Many of the games highest paying patrons will make up their minds about which tributes they will support during the games at the interviews. Maybe that choice shouldn't have anything to do with styling, but when it comes to the Capitol, styling always matters.

However, today I can't find it in myself to go into the work area with my other so-called team mates. I lie in my bed far past breakfast time and when Frain knocks on my door telling me to get up, I tell him I've taken a suppressant for a nagging head ache and he leaves me alone. In reality I'm planning on going to watch training.

Designers and their teams are always invited to go watch training, they just never do. On the whole, people who work designing clothes don't care much about the design of the game. We can't watch on the days when the tributes are scored, of course, but every other day of training we're allowed in. I'm going to have to wait until my teams lunch break so I can sneak out though, but it won't be long now.

Finally, I hear them walking toward the elevator down from our tower to the main floor where they'll take another elevator up to the eighth floor of the tribute building and have lunch. Once their gone I wait about ten minutes and then leave my room, giving them enough time to get to the second set of elevators so they won't see me.

The training building is attached to the tribute building by a long hallway made of glass. You can see people walking in the streets outside the glass, but they can't see you. Once you enter the training building, there's a small waiting area with two large glass doors- which are locked during training hours. Beside them are two fine, pearl doors with the seal of the Capitol on them leading up a winding staircase to the game makers booth. That' s where I'm headed. My stomach twists as I reach for the handle since I've never done this before- in fact, I doubt any design member has.

I pull myself together and walk up the stairs. The men and women there are entirely preoccupied- not with the loud goings on of the training below, but with themselves and their clothes and their hair. No one asks who I am, or wonders what I'm doing there, in fact the only recognition that I get is a woman commenting on the originality of my tattoos.

I sit down in a vacant chair and turn myself to watch the tributes. I've only ever watched the re-caps of this time on television, never actually experienced it myself. Each tribute is vicious in their own way; the tributes from districts one through four focus on proving their strength and ability, the tributes from five and six seem to be focusing on smaller tasks like learning how to make fire or camouflage, The lower districts are spread out among the training centers depending on what they can do and what they think they need to know. I look around for my tributes, and when I finally find them I'm surprised to see them together, the only ones at the station for natural infection treatment and first aid.

I can't imagine many tributes give that station much thought, but it's a very helpful one. The games aren't just about blood baths, but about the brutality of the synthetic nature around them too. I watch as the leader of the station hands both of them a few leaves and motions wildly with his hands. Both of them nod and start matching the leaves to words on screens before them. After about thirty minutes they stand up to move on.

Lennox's eyes move up to the box. At first I think she can't see anything- even though there's nothing there to obstruct her view of the box's occupants. Her eyes roam over the game makers and land on me. She turns quickly and whispers something to her brother before looking back up to give me a small smile and a wave. I smile back, but don't dare wave since that would attract far too much attention from the others around me. My gaze then moves to Horatio. His eyes are stern and cold, looking at me- no more like straight through me. For a minute I feel like he knows about everything that's happened to me and I feel the blush creep up my back and onto my cheeks. Once again, I could not be more thankful for my skin color inlay.

They move from station to station spending about a half an hour at each. I don't know if they had planned on going to only survival stations today, but I don't see them pick up a weapon once. Finally a bell rings and the tributes all set their selected training items down and head for the door. The game makers also make their way toward the exit, still chattering about silly nothings as they descend the staircase. I follow behind them and notice that the tributes haven't been let out yet. As soon as I pass the doors, they are opened and the tributes pile out.

Some of them are talking, but most of them are silent as they walk through the glass hall behind me.

"Nerissa!" I hear my name, but the voice is very unfamiliar. I turn to see Lennox moving toward me through the group of tributes, followed closely by Horatio.

"You came to watch us?" she asks.

I nod and smile, unsure of what else to say.

"Is that allowed?" Horatio asks in a some-what mocking tone.

"It is," I reply simply.

"Why didn't the others come?" Lennox asks.

"They were working on your interview make-up." I say.

"Your assistance wasn't needed?" His questions aren't really questions, they're more like accusations in an inquiring tone of voice.

"It wasn't." I return trying not to glare at him.

My usual chipper, "capitolian" demeanor from yesteryears has been decaying since the incident with Haydrien. I try to keep myself light and flaky, but sometimes it's hard to forget the things I've seen. I could never explain anything that happened with Haydrien to Marina. First, she would think I was joking, and if I persisted she would think I was crazy. To members of the Capitol, the government can do no wrong. Every decision they make is for the bettering of the people as a whole. I can't conform to that idea anymore, I just can't. Sometimes, I desperately wish I could though.

Lennox walks beside me all the way back to the elevator. Dinner is in an hour and I'm sure the rest of my team will be on the eighth floor waiting.

"Feeling better, Nessie?" Cimorene's nasally voice stings my ears.

"Much, thank you," I say with a smile.

"Were you sick?" Horatio asks. I'd thought he would follow his sister back to the rooms, but I suppose I guessed wrong.

"I was. I'm better now." I say.

He grunts and sets himself in a chair at the table.

The next day I do the same thing. None of my team wants to work with me (they'd much rather gossip about me while I'm not there) so they don't care what my excuse for not attending the design sessions is. Today Lennox and Horatio work on survival again. It's a wonderful thing for them to be knowledgeable on how to keep themselves alive when they aren't running from a career, but I'm worried that when it comes down to it, they won't be able to hold their own.

That evening after dinner as I'm leaving to go back to the tower, someone clears their throat behind me. I turn to see Horatio standing there with his hands behind his back. He's looking everywhere but my face as he says: "I need your help." When he finishes the sentence his eyes meet mine. There's something so sincere about his look, I'm caught off guard.

"I don't know how much I can help...I just do your make-up." I reply.

He smirks a little and shakes his head. "You've come to watch us in training for two days now, and every time I look up into that box, you seem frustrated. And I'm sure it doesn't comes as much of a shock to you that Benedict is barely any help. He gave up on us that very first day."

That last part is very true, Benedict often gives up on his tributes before he really knows them.

"There's something you want to tell me- er, us."

"Why don't you try weapons?" I ask finally.

"Most of the tributes die from natural causes." He replies, as if that's the only answer there is.

"Only because the game makers manipulate the arena's climate." I return. "You have to teach Lennox how to fight, otherwise she doesn't stand a chance. And you're gonna need at least one ally, find a team or at least one other tribute who cares about Lennox, better yet, let Lennox find someone. One of those tributes is bound to fall in love with her if you give them the chance."

He studies me for a moment and frowns a little "You really do care about her winning, don't you?"

A silence forms while I try to think about my answer. "Yes. But I shouldn't." I finally say.

He moves toward me then. "Alright, here's the deal, you help me try to choose an ally by watching the tributes tomorrow from the box, and I'll start teaching Lennox how to fight, yeah?"

I clench my hands into fists and bite my lip but eventually my head nods 'yes.'

He smiles lightly and turns to go to his room, then stops suddenly and swivels back around "Oh, thank you, Nerissa."

I nod again and watch him walk away. As I leave for the tower I let out a long breath. There may not be rules about _watching_ the tributes train, but _helping _them is whole other ordeal.


	6. Chapter 6

Six: Informant

I slip into the game makers box with ease now. No one seems to mind my presence and it beats sitting in the tower doing nothing all day. Today my focus switches from Lennox and Horatio and onto the other teams. Choosing a good ally isn't only about how much you get along with them or how skilled they are, you have to think about their likability in the eyes of the Capitol too. If you ally with someone who's more likely to have good patronage during the game,s you're safer and more secure than you would be on your own.

I settle myself in, not only to watch the tributes train, but to listen to the game makers commentary. Many of them will bet on a winner, the more favorable they are in the betting pools, the more patronage the team is bound to get. Training starts, and my eyes immediately fall on the careers. Districts one through three all stand by the weapon station watching and jeering as the small girls from district five reach out for swords.

I see Horatio fumble as he's leading Lennox over to the same station. He gives me a quick glance and I know he's going to wait until they're gone. The district five girls really aren't so bad with the swords. The older one seems to know quite a bit about how to handle the thing, but they're both so small, I don't think they'll last long simply because of their ability to break. I watch as the twins from district one start tossing maces and axes at dummies. They want to prove that despite the fact that they're pretty, well-bread girls, they're still a threat and they think that strength has everything to do with that.

I search the room for district fours tributes, Arrow and Mace. They're big guys, probably the oldest in the competition save Horatio. I find them working at the survival station with the sisters from district eleven. They seem to be helping them along with some of the material. I remember then how they both volunteered after a young set of siblings was reaped. I look between them and my tributes; if they're willing to help two younger girls who could potentially be a threat to them _and_ volunteer after two young kids were reaped, I have more than a little faith that they'll work to protect Lennox.

Even though I'm sure they won't need more than district four as allies, I still watch the rest of the teams throughout the day. District six is sad to watch. The boys are incredibly spindly and awkward, they don't stay in one place very long and they can't seem to commit to a weapon. I hate to say it, but those boys are toast during the blood bath, especially since I know what their mentor is like. Phylidia Collowell is one of the oldest mentors left in the games. She won the second annual Hunger Games by hiding away in the darkest space of a cave for the entire run.

It was quite a shock- so I'm told- that she kept alive so long. Back then the mentors were simply strategists who would occasionally vie for their tributes and comment on their "obvious" strategy, but never really did anything more than that. It all came down to her lack of water in the end, and somehow her mentor managed to get enough money to send her some. When the games were over she wasn't even strong enough to get out of the cave on her own. She was in a wheel chair when she reappeared at the fourteenth annual Hunger Games when each district finally had at least one victor. She's never been quite sane- so I've been told- but the games ruined her for life.

The tributes from eight, nine and twelve are pretty average tributes. They've watched enough games to know what they're getting into and they're listening to their mentors. District eight has an extreme advantage since last year's victor was one of their own. Maks Renner is his name, he's only sixteen now, but he's one of the fastest tributes I've ever seen in the games. He has a natural agility that trumped even the strongest careers. As if eight needed anymore help though. They're younger than district four, but just as big and that wasn't enough, their names are Gnash and Rip- not exactly the friendliest sounds.

District ten seems to be missing however. I scour the room for them until finally I see them sitting at the fire building station, watching my tributes at the knot tying station beside them. They aren't small, but they're sallow and malnourished. Their eyes are rimmed in purple and I can see scabs on their necks just below the collar of their training uniforms. I've never seen two people more aware of their fate. District six may not stand a chance but they're still training, these two aren't even trying.

Lunch has passed when Horatio finally brings Lennox to the weapons station. The Careers laugh a little as they approach, but re-focus their attention on the weights they've been throwing back and forth for the last twenty minutes. Horatio leads Lennox down the line of weapons pointing some out and skipping others. Finally she picks up a small ax and he stands behind her showing her how to throw it. They spend the rest of the training time going over proper technique and working with a few knives as well.

Just before the bell rings Horatio picks up an ax of his own and tosses it toward a dummy hitting it square in the chest. The weapon hits its mark with a particularly loud thunk and when the bell rings, half of the tributes _and_ game makers are staring at the ax.

Desdemona rambles on at dinner about how she heard a bit of gossip that involved Horatio from a friend of hers who was in the box today.

"Of course, she couldn't tell me much since I'm your event coordinator, but it sounds like you really impressed them!" she chimes.

Horatio's face stays void of emotion as she speaks but Lennox is beaming. "He didn't want to show off, but he's been using an ax his whole life, you know."

My eyes flicker to Horatio and instead of seeing him, I see Haydrien. His silver hair glints in the light and his green eyes pierce mine. The white of his clothes give me shivers and I can picture the blood running down his face. My body goes numb and my hearing fades as I realize my eyes didn't fall on Horatio at all, but the Avox behind him.

I have to pretend like I don't know him. Talking to an Avox, or even so much as acknowledging that you ever knew them is cause for treason. My neck starts to sweat as I pull my eyes off of him and try to focus on my food. I can't. I don't know why he would have ever been put back in this building after what happened, but he's here. I keep looking back up at him in fleeting glances to make certain- but it's unmistakable; the Avox is Haydrien.

I leave the table before anyone else and run up to the tower. My heart is beating wildly in my chest and I feel like I might faint. My head keeps screaming at me because it knows it's all my fault that he ended up that way. I'm surprised to hear a rough rap on my door. I open it to see Horatio, his eyes darting every which way.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

"No, but they won't question you." I return, opening the door wider.

He walks in and turns "Was the ax a bad idea?"

"No, not at all, I'm glad you finally showed them that you aren't just another tribute; you have a skill to offer."

He sighs "So, what do you think?"

"I think you need to ally with four. They volunteered for a young pair in their district and seem to have made an alliance with eleven, even though those girls both seem like strong contenders, they're still pretty young. I think they'll help you protect Lennox- in fact, eleven probably will too."

Horatio knits his brow and starts to pace a little. "How do I go about getting them to join my team?"

"There aren't any teams, Horatio, only one person comes out of this alive. But you shouldn't tell them what your ultimate goal is by making them your allies. Simply make friends with them, talk to them, make it so you have a relationship with them beyond adversaries. You have to ask them to take your side, without actually asking. Sometimes mentors will go and forge alliances for you, but I'm sure you know that Benedict isn't necessarily good for that." I reply.

He nods and stops pacing "So four and eleven are my allies now." He looks up at me "I guess that means I need to get Lennox into shape huh?"

"Yes, and might I suggest focusing on the knives more- maybe some shielding techniques. She's young and agile, her ability to move quickly will be her greatest weapon- just think about Maks last year. Teach her how to move with those knives, and if you can't, ask eleven to help you."

He nods and walks back to the door "I don't think it's a good idea to stay up here too long...but thank you again, Nerissa. Honestly, I need the help, I have no idea what I'm doing, and I _have_ to save her."

I nod and smile, my inner eyes flickering back to Haydrien "I know."


End file.
